


Day 19: Corruption

by Aichi



Series: Kinktober 2020 [19]
Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: F/F, Light Bondage, Possession, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:40:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27398896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aichi/pseuds/Aichi
Summary: Gaily embraces her role as her Queen's vessel.
Relationships: Gredora/Gaily Kurt
Series: Kinktober 2020 [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951588
Comments: 5
Kudos: 4





	Day 19: Corruption

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhhh I don't know if this one is really in the spirit of the prompt! Or if it even makes sense! I kind of gutted all of the really fucked up stuff out of it in the end because it was making me uncomfy sorry
> 
> Bonus Warning that I haven't tagged for - not "dubious consent", because it's very consensual, but it's one of those ones where the person in control doesn't care either way. You guys all know how this diffride stuff went in canon.

Gaily Kurt had always believed in aliens, and in the fact — because she _knew_ it was a fact — that they walked amongst humans. There was something captivating and hopeful and _romantic_ about the idea, no matter how terrifying so many extraterrestrials were described in myth and media, and no matter how many other children — and eventually teens, adults — painted her as _weird_ or _unsettled_ for her fascination. That was why she liked Vanguard, and her beloved Megacolony most of all; even if not all of them truly _believed_ , the respect all cardfighters shared for the alien world of Cray resonated with her like nothing else.

That’s why, now, she’s not scared or surprised to find herself suspended in empty space, twin worlds hanging in the dreamlike void beneath her, with her avatar’s nails drawing thin, stinging red lines along the curve of her jaw.

“You’re not frightened at all,” Queen Gredora muses. “You realize, child, I’m about to claim your body as my own? Your entire life?”

“I— I realize,” Gaily all but whispers, breathing quick and shallow. “I always knew you would.”

Dizzying rainbows of clouds and stars and far-off worlds swirl in the void around them, as if lit by the energy of Gaily’s own racing pulse. Several of Gredora’s sleek, armored legs are wrapped around her from behind, and the Queen’s chest is pressed flush against her back, her nerves lighting up like tiny firecrackers at the realization of their _closeness_ , that this is _real_ , that her avatar is not only here _with_ her, but _for_ her.

Gaily shivers, and not with fear. 

She doesn’t resist as her arms are pulled and pinned together in front of her, tight ropes of silken web criss-crossing over the long sleeves of her blazer. Soon, the same delicate pattern spirals up her legs as well, squeezing shallow channels into the soft flesh of her thighs as it binds them together. She can’t tear her eyes from it, the ease with which Gredora claims her so beautifully; she almost looks beautiful _herself_ , she thinks, on display like this, contorted together with the body of her avatar, so close she’s not sure where one of them ends and the other begins. She swiftly buries both the thought and the ensuing images of the Queen stripping her clothes away and becoming even closer still, but not before the feeling it stirs in her starts to creep visibly over her cheeks, pink and warm.

“Oh, but you’d look _perfect_ like that, my vessel,” Gredora coos, silkily, one hand cupping Gaily’s chin and tipping it back, baring her throat. Gaily swallows, like a sweet yet prickly fruit, the knowledge that the Queen is reading her every thought, rifling through pages of titillating fantasy that don’t quite have the courage to go full-on erotica. “I told you, I’m taking your body, and everything that comes with it. I can see every shameful little thing you’re thinking up there.”

Gredora’s weight shifts, the firm shape of her breasts pressing against Gaily’s back, and Gaily draws in a sharp breath at the sudden heat of lips on her neck. Pointed teeth tease at her skin, hard enough to bruise but not enough to tear her in two like the vulnerable, fluttering paper she’s starting to feel like. A shudder runs through her, from her head down to her neatly bound ankles; it’s the pressure, the frightening exhilaration of being _seen_ , of knowing that even now, her thoughts are being laid bare, all her long-held faith and hope and _desire_ unfurling like a banner for her avatar — her Queen — to behold.

“And here I thought I’d have to take you by _force_ , my sweet. But no,” and Gredora’s nails slide down the length of her body, mapping the tight curve of her hips, “you _want_ this, don’t you? You _want_ to serve me. You want to be _transformed_.”

The words sink into the heat of Gaily’s stomach like a rock, and the weight of her avatar's mind pushes at her own, melts into it, intertwining with her like a long-lost lover.

“I do,” she breathes, and braves a look down again, past the hem of her skirt, to tassels brushing softly against her bare thighs between the pattern of silken threads.

It’s not real, she knows, just a product of this inbetween, imaginary space, but even the _image_ of her bindings is overwhelming, and she can only stare, wide-eyed and enraptured, as Gredora’s nails slip into the folds of her blazer and pop a button free of its stitches, letting it fall away into the oily darkness of the void. Even the button is only an image, a symbol, the first stage of her awakening; the rest of her blazer simply _vanishes_ , a shower of sparks cascading across her skin as the thin fabric of her shirt is suddenly exposed to the universe.

Such a small step, baring so little, and yet it carries the potential to be the first of many, a rebirth as a perfect, beautiful, alluring vessel — or pet, or toy, whatever her brilliant, powerful alien Queen desires to possess.

“ _This_ ,” Gredora hisses in an echo of her own thoughts, teeth nipping at Gaily’s ear, “is the first stage of becoming who you truly are, isn’t it? My vessel… oh, you have _so many_ buried desires… so many you won’t admit, even to yourself…” The Queen hums, trails off, and Gaily’s chest tightens and heaves with twisting, burning pride and honor and _shame_. It’s the humiliation of _wanting_ — of wanting to be seen, touched, to view herself as something _attractive_ , something actually _desirable_ to someone so powerful — it’s unthinkable, and yet, here she is. Thinking it.

After a lifetime of simultaneous yearning and burial, it’s no easy task to step into such a spotlight, no matter how much she wants to — but the step has already been taken for her, _by_ her; her Queen’s threads are all around her, waiting to catch her, and Gaily freely, willingly entrusts herself to them, and to the glimmering green space dust that’s beginning to coalesce into a familiar symbol on the back of her right hand.

Gredora’s fingers slide between her thighs, beneath her skirt, nails sharp and electric against her skin, and a soft keen slips from barely-parted lips.

“My vanguard,” the Queen breathes, her voice a thick, honeyed liquid pouring into Gaily’s ear, “give yourself to me.”

Gaily does, all the trepidation of her old self falling away like a discarded cocoon, and her cries are smothered by the darkness of space as her Queen’s lithe, skillful fingers pry her dreams, her orgasm, and finally her very soul from her body.

**Author's Note:**

> "Are you just projecting again?" Yeah.  
> "Do you just want to write characters with no canon dialogue or personality so you can project harder?" Also Yeah.
> 
> Twitter: @cosmowreath


End file.
